Novaturient
by c.mary.c
Summary: (adj.) desiring or seeking powerful change in one's life, behavior, or situation. *the 1st companion piece to Perfect Blood* -Complete-


General Wolf Rules For Life

1. Eat  
>2. Rest<br>3. Rove in between  
>4. Render loyalty<br>5. Love the children  
>6. Cavil in moonlight<br>7. Tune your ears  
>8. Attend to the bones<br>9. Make love  
>10. Howl often<p>

-unknown

* * *

><p><em>'Pull the trigger. Just man the fuck up and pull it.'<em>

The gun was unsteady in my trembling hands, the barrel's tip pressing into the flesh under my jaw. My finger was on the trigger, all I had to do was squeeze, and it would all be over. All my suffering would be done. A bead of sweat fell down my face, and my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Jesus Christ. I couldn't even get 5 minutes alone to fucking kill myself. I picked it up and slurred my words.

"Whaddyawant?"

*I need you to get on a plane. Now please.*

I snorted incredulously at the order. Roy Mustang, always finding a way to ruin my fun. The fact that my idea of fun was drowning myself in vodka and blowing my brains out in the bathroom of a seedy bar in Moscow was irrelevant.

*Did you accomplish your mission?* He asked.

"Yea he's dead. Deadsa fuckin' doornul."

*I think the phrase is, 'dead as a door nail'. You've been drinking again.*

"Yup." I nodded, gun still firmly wedged under my chin "I've got halfa mind'ta ne'er come back." The line went quiet.

*...Put the gun away, Ed. Where's Havoc?*

"He's off with some prostitute getting blown 'er some shit idda know. I dun' care. I can't do this anymore. I can't look hhhnemore." I hiccuped and let the gun fall to my side as my eyes swam and my throat tightened. "I thought we'd find something."

*We will, we just need more time.*

"16 YEARS!" I roared, my voice cracking from the strain. My head swam and my stomach lurched. Oh fuck.

"Hang on." I rushed, and leaned over the toilet to vomit. After a minute or so I sat back and wiped my mouth, gasping to catch my breath.

*You okay?* He asked. I said nothing. *Ed you've been through this. Think about how far you've come. Think about all the good you've done for the world.*

"How many times can I do this? I'm tiiired Roy." I choked. "I'm so tired. I don't care hhhnemore."

*Yes you do. You wouldn't have answered your phone if you didn't care. Now sober up, find Havoc and get back to New York please."

I sighed in defeat and staggered to stand, looking down at the vomit on my shirt. I was such a fuck-up I couldn't even kill myself properly.

"Immon my way."

*I'm glad to hear it.*

"Don't tell Riza." I pleaded. "I don't like seein' 'er cry."

*I have to tell her, she's just as much a part of this as I am. She wouldn't cry all the time if you stopped doing this.* His clipped tone was evidence of his attitude towards anything that could upset his favorite subordinate. I sulked, knowing he was right. I needed to get my shit together again, and I gulped as I sized up the mess looking back at me in the mirror.

"I'll see you soon." I said, and hung up. I splashed some water on my grimy face in effort to come back to reality, and opened the bathroom door to a line of grouchy drunkards not unlike myself impatiently waiting. They scowled and muttered curses in Russian at me as I walked by, 'lazy bastard' this and 'fucking Americans' that. But I didn't care. I looked around the dark smokey bar and sighted Lieutenant Jean Havoc at a tiny table in the far corner with his tongue down a girl's throat. I staggered over and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up at me and grinned.

"You look like you've been having fun." He said, gesturing to my obvious state of inebriation. If only he knew what I'd almost done.

"Speak for yourself." I said, lilting my head head lazily to the side in the direction of his female companion. "Mustang called, we gotta go." Havoc shrugged and knocked back his last shot of vodka before rattling off in Russian to the girl and kissing her. I drummed my fingers on the beat up wooden table impatiently. I needed fresh air. Havoc finally stood and helped me out of the bar, just in time for me to stumble down the side alley and throw up as he lit a cigarette and called our contact at the Air Force Base nearby.

"Feury it's Jean, there's been a change of plans we're heading back tonight. Pack up and head to the tarmac. But on your way, could you swing by and pick us up? Fullmetal and I..." He paused and looked back at me as I heaved again. "We're not so fit to drive."

* * *

><p>It was dark. I couldn't feel my body, and I was fighting to drag myself back into consciousness. Suddenly a bright light shined above me, and I squinted against the strain as three shadowy figures came into view, hovering over me. They murmured to each other softly at first, but their voices became louder and frantic and they looked back and forth at each other, then me, then at each other again.<p>

_"Why is he awake?! What did you do?!"_ They screamed in horror, _"Sedate him! SEDATE HIM!"_ The shrieks were ear shattering, and I saw red.

I awoke with a start, putting my hand to my chest in effort to calm my erratic breathing. It was the same nightmare I'd always had since I could remember, only each time I had it I would see a different part of the memory. It wasn't just a night terror, it was real. Something I'd been fighting unsuccessfully to block out for years. Something I would give anything in the world to stop reliving when I slept. I pushed myself up on my elbows, getting my bearings. I was on the plane. It wasn't a commercial jet liner with first class accommodations, it was a military plane, bare bones on the inside for utilitarian purposes. Someone had scrounged up a cot for me to pass out on. I was still in the same disgusting clothes, reeking of booze and bad decisions and I pulled myself to sit upright. I felt horrible: exhausted, nauseous yet starving, my head was pounding, my stomach was in knots. It was no ordinary hangover.

I felt something in my pocket pressing into my hip, and investigating found it was a small bag of my Xanax. I always carried it with me. I felt something else in my back pocket, and I fished it out only to gasp in shock and quickly shove it back in my pocket before anyone saw. I'd completely forgotten that I'd bought coke off a crack head in the alley behind the bar.

I made my way over to the jumper seats that lined the plane's walls, my footsteps slow and careful, and eased myself down in the seat next to Jean. I ran a hand through my long, messy blonde hair and groaned. Jean slid his eyes over my way.

"He lives." He said, taking a draw on his e-cig.

"Barely." I muttered. "Where are we?"

"We're over the Atlantic now, should be refueling in California in an hour or so. You're a fucking mess, you know that?"

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just so sick of being let down. I really thought we'd at least get some info or something." He gave me a non-committal shrug in response and nodded.

"Believe me I wanted to find something too, but there's gotta be a better way for you to deal with these setbacks. Something less ...destructive."

I looked up in surprise. "Did I hurt someone?"

"I'm talking about self destruction, Ed." I furrowed my brow at him and shot back,

"Says the guy who chain smokes like a chimney. You're doing e-cigs now because you need your fix on a fucking plane?" He glared at me before relaxing and saying,

"That's rich coming from the guy who snorted blow off a hooker's tits last night."

My jaw hit the floor and I nearly fell out of my chair.

"I did WHAT?"

He nodded solemnly, confirming the worst. I sat back, hands raked in my filthy hair in shock.

"Dick move, Elric. Now pony up the stash, I know you have it."

I'd never fished drugs out of my pockets so fast in my life.

"Take it." I said. "I can't believe I did that. I haven't done coke in years. No wonder I crashed so hard last night."

"You passed out face first in the snow." He smirked at me. I felt a grin crawl across me, as his own widened, and suddenly we were both laughing till our stomachs hurt.

"Ahhh fuck," he said, wiping wetness from his eyes as he shook off the last bits of our laughing fit. "Seriously though, I can't keep covering up for you. I should tell Roy about this."

"Don't. It won't happen again."

"Yea I've heard that one before. If it's not cocaine it's something else, Ed. We can't keep doing this shit. I know I'm not exactly the picture of good health, and I'd never try to tell someone how to live their life. I couldn't imagine trying to live yours, but I've got to guess there's better ways to cope with the life you're living."

I said nothing as I let his words sink in. I knew it wasn't right for me to go on missions and act like a damn lunatic the second my PTSD reared it's ugly head. Havoc had PTSD too, but he wasn't buying drugs, objectifying women and dangling suicide in front of the people who care about him.

"I called Mustang after Feury and I dragged you into the car. He told me to brief you on your assignment when you were sober. Are you sober?"

I nodded as he continued, taking another long drag off his e-cig.

"You're being sent to protect someone." He said. My jaw hit the floor for the second time.

"What?! No way. Absolutely not! I can barely keep my shit together now without having to babysit someone. Is Mustang out of his mind?"

"Mustang doesn't want you going, the order came from Bradley himself." I found this interesting. The Secretary of Defense rarely showed his face in Central and he NEVER shined a spotlight on me directly.

"The person you're protecting is extremely important. That's why you've gotta keep it together." He said.

"Lemme guess. Sleazy, middle-aged politician again?" I asked.

"No."

"Celebrity? World leader?"

"No, she's a civilian." I'd had about all the surprises I could take.

"A girl?" I sputtered, utterly flabbergasted. "Oh no. No, no, no. I can't guard females." I'd sworn off protecting women for the military, there were too many variables. Too much tricky emotion. The first time it was a problem was when the female politician I was assigned to protect got drunk while her husband was away and tried to seduce me by grabbing my junk. The second time was when I was watching a 4 year old little girl, who I grew to love like a sister. When I failed my mission and she was killed, I took a handful of pills, drank a fifth of vodka and went to bed praying I'd never wake up. I almost got my wish, but Riza found me vomiting in my sleep when she came to check on me.

"She's not like anyone you've dealt with in the past. She's a very unique woman, extremely important to the military. She's been working with the military since she was a child, much like you."

"If she's been around that long then I probably know her." I said.

"It's Winry Rockbell." I stared back at him blankly, and he blinked in surprise.

"You don't know her? Haven't met her or seen her around Central?" I shrugged, shaking my head and he smoothed a hand over his face and blew out a long, low whistle in awe.

"Wow. Well, get ready."

"What's that mean?" I asked. "Is she a pain in the ass? Or crazy? Is she an old hag?" He shot me a look.

"That's a personal friend of mine you're talking about. She's close with all of us. She's also smart and a sweetheart. As for appearances, well, you'll find out."

I was convinced that I was being set up to babysit the Elephant man's sister.

* * *

><p>It felt good to be home. That was one of the scarier things about how my mind worked; I could be ready to off myself one day, and the next be happy and grateful for a hot shower and a warm bed. I stood in the shower under the scalding water, wishing it could wash away the things I'd done 24 hours prior. It was 3am, and I was jet-lagged. I needed to talk to Dr. Marcoe again, the meds weren't working anymore. I shut off the water and reached for a towel.<p>

To say I didn't recognize the person in the mirror was an understatement, because I didn't know who he was to begin with. I had no memory of my life before 12 years old when I woke up on an operating table with my right arm and left leg gone, replaced by mechanical prosthetics. The following 16 years had been filled with me trying to find any clues to who did this to me, how it happened, who I really was. I wasn't exactly sure of my age down to the day or my name; we only had the medical bracelet I was wearing when the military found me. It listed my weight, blood type and the onle name was E.V.H. Elric. I'd had dreams in which I'd referred to myself as Edward, so I ran with it. I got dressed and made my way to the living room to find Brigadier General Roy Mustang waiting for me.

"Don't you knock?" I asked irritably.

"I would if you had a door. You have an elevator. And we don't need to announce ourselves to you."

"We? Who's here with-" I heard heavy footsteps coming up behind me, and I spun around just in time for Riza Anira to slap me hard across the face.

"Hawkeye what the fuck?!" I hollered, holding my hand to my burning cheek. She was seething with fury in her brown eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing. I put my ass on the line and begged Bradley to spare your life, and this the the thanks I get?! This is how you repay the General for giving you a career? A purpose? A future?! I'm so sick of these childish games with you, Ed. You're 29, grow up!"

She stormed out the stairwell door and slammed it behind her, leaving me dumbfounded. Riza hardly ever showed emotion to anyone, and she never yelled. Her years spent as a sniper at war crafted her into a silent force of power, and Mustang kept her at his personal assistant because she was so calm and reliable. Well, that and the fact that they'd been fooling around secretly for years. Mustang rose from his seat on the couch and crossed the room to clap me on the shoulder.

"Magnificent, isn't she?"

"I feel really bad."

"You should. Absolutely. You can make it up to the both of us by being downstairs around noon to meet Winry. Get some sleep." I nodded and he made his way to the stairwell door.

"I'm sorry, Roy." I called after him. "I know I owe you and Riza everything. Just please believe that I'm trying my best."

He stopped and looked back, regarding me cautiously.

"I used to believe you were trying, Ed. But this is the fourth time we've dealt with suicidal tendencies from you, and it's exhausting. Years ago I had a friend who killed himself and he didn't tell anyone about it. He didn't leave a note, he never talked about it and he never behaved the way you do. He suffered in silence and never showed his pain. One day he was here and the next, he was gone. People who want to die find a way to make it happen, they don't go around talking about it. You don't want to die, you just want the suffering to stop. All the drugs and alcohol in the world won't help you deal with your problems. Either find a healthy outlet, or find a new job. I'm not kidding."

His words leveled me.

"You'd court marshal me?" I asked in horror.

"I could have court marshaled you years ago if I wanted to, but despite all the crazy shit you pull you still manage to be an exemplary soldier. It's what restores my faith that you'll live a normal life someday. I need you to have that same faith Ed, because I can't keep covering up for you. You gotta keep it together when you're with Winry. She's dealing with enough, she shouldn't have to see this side of you."

And with that, he was gone.

* * *

><p>Midday sunlight poured in my windows and dragged me out of sleep. I sat up groggy, dying to say 'fuck it' and go back to bed, but I knew I was better than that. I knew the mission always came first. I glanced at my phone: 11:00 am. I had enough time to shower, pack and get downstairs after ordering breakfast from the mess hall. I picked up the land line and the nightstand, punched in the code to the kitchens and waited only to get an automated message saying the kitchens were closed. I knew that only happened when shit was going down, so I picked up my cell and called Mustang.<p>

"What's going on down there? The mess halls closed."

"I received a threatening letter this morning. We knew that someone was asking about Winry a few days ago, which is why Bradley called you back from Russia early, but it just got serious. Someone wants to kill her."

"That's unfortunate." I yawned, still trying to wake up.

"It's a serious problem, Ed. She's extremely valuable, and the public isn't supposed to know about what she does for us. But someone out there knows which means we've got a traitor on our hands. The letter I got listed the names of everyone in Central saying any of them could be the traitor, and that if we didn't sever ties with Rockbell they would -let's see if I've got this right-" I heard the rustling of paper over the line. "They would 'cut her open and live inside her'."

I blanched. There went my appetite.

"Jesus. When did you get this note?"

"An hour ago. We're not telling her about the gory details, wouldn't do any good. People are scrambling down here. Winry was actually here at the hospital earlier getting blood drawn, I called her to come back when I got the note. She should be here any minute, can you come down soon?"

I scratched my head and looked around in drowsy stupor.

"Ahh, yea. Is 20 minutes okay?"

"That should be fine." The line went silent.

'Okay,' I thought to myself. 'Just pack after you meet her.' I groaned. I still couldn't believe I was being forced to babysit another woman, nothing good ever came of it.

* * *

><p>The elevator doors opened and I walked out onto Central's ground floor into the unyielding madness of everyone hollering on phones, running paperwork back and forth and being far above the point of stressed out. I pulled on my black nylon glove over my right hand and pulled my long sleeves down a bit further, just to be sure that she wouldn't see. The last thing I needed was for our meeting to go, 'Hi, I'm Ed, I'm an assassin with robotic limbs and a mental health issues. Let me live in your house and make all your decisions!'. Yea, that'd go over great. A few fellow soldiers halted in their tracks upon seeing me downstairs, sober and presentable by lunchtime. This was unusual for me. I glared at them and shrugged my shoulders as if to say, 'Got a problem?' and strode across the room towards Mustang's big office. I was rubbing the sleep out of my eyes when my focus fell on the woman sitting in Roy's office.<p>

Everything slowed down, the room around me became a blur; the only focus being long flowing blonde hair and an oversized leather jacket. She was sitting with her back to me, and I watched a pale, delicate hand reach up to tuck her hair behind her ear. She was young. Her head turned for a moment to wave to Riza who was standing near the door, and that's when I felt it. A sharp shock deep in my chest, for a moment I couldn't breathe. I saw her face only for a second, but it was all the time required for the image to be burned into my memory forever because I knew then just what Jean meant when he said to get ready for her appearance. She wasn't a crazy old hag. She was far from. She was ...so goddamn beautiful. Riza must've noticed me standing there frozen stiff because she came up next to me and nudged my side playfully.

"You ready?" She asked coyly. I could barely utter a word. I was panicking. How could I survive living with her? I was such a mess, it was one thing to have to keep up normal appearances to someone you weren't attracted to, but I couldn't lie to myself and say she wasn't pretty. She was a fucking creature of beauty, and I suddenly felt completely naked. Totally stripped of power or any ability to function as normal. This was going to be horrible.

"Riza... I can't..."

"Yes you can." She said, stepping into my line of vision and breaking my gaze on the breathtaking girl. I couldn't be more thankful, and I took a full breath. "You'll be fine. This isn't any different from anyone else you've had to protect. You know what needs to be done." I broke my eye contact with her and glanced back at the girl in Roy's office, being gutted by her beauty once again. It absolutely terrified me.

"But Riza... I mean... _look at her_..." She looked around, trying to shoo away prying eyes who should have been working and turned to grab me by the shoulders.

"Edward, look at me. This is very important. You MUST keep it together while you're living with Winry. I'm begging you. I know she's pretty..."

I rolled my eyes dramatically and gave her an exhasperated look.

"...Okay, she's stunning. But that can't get in the way of the mission, Ed. Blinders up, soldier. You've got a job to do." She was right, I had a job to do. Keep her safe. Keep the very, very pretty girl safe. I straightened up and exhaled, becoming the controlled soldier I usually was on my good days.

I walked to Mustang's office and knocked on the glass door's edge. Roy looked up at me and I walked in and gave him a firm handshake. It was all about appearences. I watched Roy turn to the girl and introduce me by my government assigned name, Edward Elric: The Fullmetal Alchemist. I turned to shake her hand and my heart lurched violently. Seeing her upclose was ...jaw-dropping. Pale skin like porcelean, long flowing buttery strands of hair, and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen; like vibrant cerulean pools for me to drown myself in. The fact that she was shy only added to her appeal; her gaze only met mine for a split second before she blushed and looked away.

I'd seen that reaction from most women I'd met, and I didn't understand what it was all about until my mid teens when I realized that I was different from my peers at the academy in more ways than just my limbs and my mysterious origins. I never felt like I'd gone through that gawky, awkward stage of puberty that most boys experienced. My voice transitioned smoothly without cracks, my skin remained smooth and spot-free, and I was naturally muscular from lugging around metal limbs everyday. The team of engineers assigned to my case had done multiple experimental surgeries on me to learn as much as they could about my unusual body, and over the years had developed my automail to be stronger and lighter weight, allowing my body to spring up tall and strong along with my peers. I'd always been confident due to my exemplary physical capabilities and my sharp mind, and it wasn't until I was 15 that I'd learned I was good-looking. It started as the same blushing glances that this Rockbell woman was giving me, and slowly turned into groups of whispered giggles from girls in the academy halls who would scurry past me, tucking the hair behind their ears nervously and keeping their eyes on the ground. They always thought they were out of earshot when they'd turn to eachother and giggle furiously while fanning themselves with their hands and say things like, _'_good god, that guy is blessed ...those eyes ...that long hair ...he's too gorgeous to look at' blah, blah, blah.

Looks were something I never thought about. I'd spent all my time training to become more in control of myself -because in actuality, my metal limbs were weapons- and trying to keep my mental state intact. I was plagued with nightmares during times of stress, and the only useful outlet seemed to be eliminating targets for the military. But when I started to notice that girls took special interest in me, like every other guy I suddenly had a new and shiny toy to focus my attention on. And when I claimed one in the girl's barracks for the first time at 16, it went pretty damn well. Until she turned on her bedside lamp, saw my metal limbs, and freaked. That soon became the talk of the academy; Edward Elric and his freaky prosthetic limbs. It was a big headache for Mustang and Riza -seeing how they were mainly responsible for me- when my secret got out. They got a lot of flak from academy professors wondering 'Is it fair for him to be competing in sports? Why is he like that? Surely there's emotional damage there, is he mentally stable? Clearly this is why he's been a State Alchemist since 14, is he safe to be around normal kids?'

Roy hated that term. Normal.

"'Normal' is an illusion." He reminded me. "'Normal' is bull-shit. What we do for a living is normal to us, but to civilians it's chaos. We do it for the good of humanity, and no one is better at it than you. 'Normal' is a made-up term used by people as a coping mechanism. It's their pathetic way of trying to rationalize something they're unfamiliar with to comfort themselves, instead of accepting the fact that the world is ugly and terrifying and will never be the pretty place they fool themselves into thinking it'll be. People fear what they don't understand, and they're usually too self-absorbed to try and be better informed. Civilians are reactionary, controlled by their emotions. You're better than that because you're a State Alchemist."

I snapped back to reality at the sound of Mustang's voice informing Winry of what having a military guard would entail. She shouldn't leave home except for going to Central, and she had to be with me at all times. That was what made guarding people such a pain in the ass; it was boring and awkward, and miserable if the person you were assigned to was a total douche bag which happened to me when I was 23. He was a spoiled rotten, rich 21 year-old asshole who never had a job, made racial slurs at the South American housekeeper because he knew she didn't speak english well, and played Call Of Duty all day because 'war is cool as fuck'. He had very important, very ignorant parents who donated millions to Central Hospital and were trying to keep local drug rings away from their idiot son, and I got in a lot of trouble when I finally snapped and knocked his front teeth out.

We wrapped our meeting and Riza reappeared in Roy's office to walk Winry out to the parking lot, leaving me behind to glare daggers at the General.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"Stop being melodramatic, you'll be fine if you keep your wits about you and stick to the rules." He said, raising a suspicious brow in my direction. "I saw the way you were staring at her, don't even think about it."

I'd have blushed if I weren't so appalled that Roy could still read me like a book.

"I'm not thinking about anything! I was just surprised when I saw her, because she's so..." I couldn't finish my sentance, and I let the room's silence fill it for me. Roy knew what I was saying.

"This wasn't my idea to send you to her," he said, letting go of the fact that I was clearly attracted to her. "it was Bradley's. I'd much rather you and Winry not know eachother right now."

I blinked at him, not expecting that for an answer. He could sense my confusion and elaborated,

"You two are very much alike. A little too much alike. She's a precious resource and you ...well, you're dangerous. No offense."

"None taken." I agreed with him, I was a walking weapon and shouldn't be caged up with someone who was essential to the military. Bradley knew what I was capable of, he'd seen it first hand. So it was beyond strange that he'd be ordering me to watch someone so important to the government. Riza would have been the better person for the job.

"Why is she so vital to us?" I asked. Roy became quiet and his eyes darkened.

"I can't tell you. I've been ordered not to say anything to anyone who doesn't already know. She'll have to tell you herself, but good luck getting it out of her. It's a sensitive subject."

That was ridiculous. Everyone knew that the key to any soldier accomplishing a mission was to be well-prepared, and a big part of being prepared was being informed.

"How am I supposed to figure out who's threatening her if I know nothing about her?" I argued, knowing that the first rule of a soldier on guard duty was to never get close to the subject.

"Hmm... it's interesting to see you sticking to rules. Not something I'm accustomed to seeing from you." He said, sending me a knowing look and a sly smirk. He wanted me to break the rules. He wanted me to get close to the Rockbell woman. I leaned over his desk and dropped my voice so people outside wouldn't hear.

"Are you insane? Did you forget about the whole 'Nina' thing?"

"She's not a little girl Ed. She's not going to be begging for your attention and asking you to play with her all day. Winry is quiet and intensly private; she keeps to herself. You'd know a thing or two about being introverted, appeal to that side of her respectfully and get the information you need to keep her safe."

* * *

><p>The drive to her apartment was worse torture than the treatment I'd received during POW training. Well, maybe that was a stretch. She wasn't forcing me into the woods for days with no food, giving me a rabbit to feed, care for, and give a name, only to make me kill and cook it to avoid starvation. Still, I wasn't having fun. It was awkward, and to make matters worse she had a shy, nervous energy about her that I found ...annoyingly magnetic.<p>

'Snap the fuck out of it, Elric.' I told myself as I slouched in the passenger seat and focused my attention out the window. 'So she's pretty, get a grip. She's not the first attractive female you've encountered.'

I found my mind wandering to my more memorable recent conquests. 'Natalia in Milan ...Lilly in Dublin ...Isabelle in Rio ...Winry in New York-'

I nearly slapped myself.

I suddenly noticed that traffic had moved past the light we had stopped for and we were being honked and cursed at as we remained stationary. Whipping my head around, I locked my gold eyes on her and glared.

"Are you gonna drive the car or what?"

She jumped in her seat a little and blushed furiously, quickly surging the car to flow with traffic. I looked away and cringed. Fuck. I felt like an asshole. Yes, I meant to scare her a little, but only because when I looked into those sapphire eyes of hers my heart shocked to life in a way it never had before. I couldn't get to know this woman, it was far too dangerous. She would never want me if she knew what I really was, because I was a monster, and she... ...she was perfect.

* * *

><p>Life is unpredictable,<br>It changes with the seasons,  
>Even your coldest winter,<br>Happens for the best of reasons,  
>And though it feels eternal,<br>Like all you'll ever do is freeze,  
>I promise spring is coming,<br>And with it, brand new leaves.

-e.h.


End file.
